


Jagged Along The Edges

by starrylitme



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Body Horror, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Eyes, First Meetings, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutilation, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: When trying to help an injured angel, it might be easier if it wasn't so aggressive...and if you didn't also want to devour said angel. Mind you, demons shouldn't be trying to help out angels in the first place.That's not gonna stop Akira.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100





	Jagged Along The Edges

**Author's Note:**

> I know those tags are concerning, but Akira does not get even a nibble on Akechi. The same cannot be said for Akechi.
> 
> But this *is* supposed to be a fic where Akira treats an injured Akechi, I just added a bunch of weird-ass world-building for flavor.
> 
> Hehe. Flavor.

Whoever would have thought that angels had fangs? Certainly not Akira, who had just been bitten to shit by the angel he just found and had thought to help.

He had a bad habit of trying to help as a human, and it turns out that habit carried over as a demon, albeit one of a low level. He can certainly imagine the same looks of disapproval as before when people realize that he held out a hand to a supposed enemy of his race, but would he have acted any differently?

Well.

He’s still acting the same now, enflamed bitemark on his arm be damned with the rest of him. His biter is still glaring, snarling, and hissing at him like a feral cat. Quite unbefitting of an angel—except this creature probably couldn’t be called an angel anymore.

Not with its wings ripped off like that.

What was left were mangled, jagged edges of bone and a few bloodied clumps of feathers sticking to the back. It was curled up so pitifully but was still managing quite the fierce little glare. Since being bitten still hurt, it wasn’t like this once angel was _completely_ defenseless. But it was still in pretty horrible shape, and Akira didn’t even know if it retained any level of _intelligence_.

Angels are always so fucking pompous and up their asses. An angel wouldn’t be caught dead looking this unhinged and disheveled. More akin to an animal, running on nothing more than fear and aggression—but, even so.

_Well_. Akira half-wanted to pounce, never one to miss out on an easy meal. Especially one with such gorgeous fucking eyes, like hot _damn_ —sorry state or no, the angel had eyes as deep and potent as the finest blood-red wine. Akira wasn’t so noble as to not be tempted. He’s still imagining it. This angel, who’s skittering into the corner it’s been backed up in, would have just the richest taste.

He _wants_ a taste. Just a little.

And the angel hisses, but it’s also cowering. Poor thing. Poor, wretched creature. Its tortured state was so excessive. It must have _really_ pissed off some higher-ups. What a tragedy. He should put it out of its misery.

He should. Especially since the little beast fucking bit him. His arm fucking itches, too. Angels are venomous to demons, but since this one’s so injured, it’s more of an especially annoying bug bite than anything remotely lethal. Most other demons would’ve acted immediately, and Akira’s stuck staring helplessly at this thing while he still tries to formulate a plan to approach it without an attempt made on his throat.

What a pain. Physically and metaphorically.

This stupid creature had yet to let its guard down, too. If Akira had been interested in eating it, he would’ve done so by now. Or he would’ve left. This just wasn’t worth the trouble of staring stupidly with a face scrunched up in concentration—that probably just looked like constipation.

“I...” He drawls. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

No answer. Same as last time.

“You’re in an awful state,” Akira explained like he was talking to a child. “And l don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone.”

The angel spat at him, hissy and frazzled. It would be really fucking cute if it wasn’t _really fucking annoying_.

Ah.

If he just stands there, that angel will surely bleed to death or something.

...

Fuck it.

That angel sure had some _lungs_ when Akira pounced.

* * *

One thing he had to admit was that even while mutilated, the angel knew how to fight. Like _really_ knew with how its body moved and how it clearly aimed for weak spots with its nails and teeth. Just when Akira thought he had it pinned down, he had to jerk back before his face got clawed off. And the angel took off the flesh of his nose, leaving Akira to hiss between his cheek and shove them down with far more force than he would’ve preferred.

“I’m trying—to help you!” he got out through gritted teeth. “Let me help you! Who else could’ve injured you like that but a stronger angel?!”

The angel, back against the ground, screeched. No surprise there. Anything against those injuries surely felt like agony, and when Akira pressed harder, he almost immediately jolted back by the next heartrending, distorted scream.

“Sorry,” he whispered, not that the angel could hear when it was now sobbing. That face was twisted in tortured misery, and that expression was far too much to take.

“S-Sorry!” Akira yelped, pulling the angel close. Careful to avoid its back, he frantically cooed and stroked its hair. He minded any tangles and knots, murmuring soft reassurances with shaking shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re okay, it’s okay...”

The angel whimpered, digging its nails into his shoulders. Since it was more out of desperation than anything, Akira allowed it without missing a beat. For added measure, the angel was huddling closer, even to the point of pressing its face into Akira’s collarbone with a pained whine.

“Good...fucking god...” Akira utters. “What the fuck did they even _do_ to you?”

He didn’t get an answer. The angel had gone limp against him, breathing harshly against his neck.

He didn’t have time to lose before booking it to his place.

* * *

“Aw jeez, aw fuck, aw jeez... What the _hell_...”

Akira considered himself fairly proficient in magic, even healing magic. But no matter how much energy he channeled into the angel’s body, there was just no smoothing out the crude edges of bone where wings had once been. He’d have to do so a more old-fashioned way with a really tough grater, which he doubted the angel would respond well to.

For now, he focused on the more treatable injuries. The scrapes from the earlier tussle, some miscellaneous lacerations, and a couple of bruises for good measure. There was some internal bleeding to deal with, but overall, the most damage was situated on the back. The angel wouldn’t even be able to lay down like this.

Akira wiped himself off, sighing and cursing whatever monsters of this angel’s kind had thought this humane much less justified. While he had heard of angels getting their wings torn off before, it was always at the roots. Leaving gaping holes in the back that, while pretty horrifying in their own right, would still be preferable to _this shit_.

Just thinking about it pissed him off to no end. And maybe the angel could sense him just buzzing with fury because it began to stir from where it was propped up against its side on the wall.

“Ah,” Akira clicked his tongue. “No, no, just...rest more.” His hand hovered by the angel’s shoulder. The angel’s face scrunched up, and despite everything, Akira’s breath caught at just a glimpse at a sliver of deep red from the angel’s eyes. “It’s...uh...”

The angel was staring at him now, and he was left speechless.

_Oh,_ he thought as those red eyes bore into him. **_Beautiful_** _._

“...f-feeling better?” he choked out as the angel blinked at him. “You, uh... You don’t...seem...to be afraid of me anymore. That’s good.”

The angel kept staring, and Akira let out a strangled laugh.

“Right, uh, you...might still be...”

“You.” The angel pointed at him, slurring its words. “You are an _incomprehensible_ demon.”

“And you _can_ talk,” Akira remarked, with dull surprise. “Great. That makes things easier—but why didn’t you speak earlier? Were you really that scared?”

The angel shook its—his head.

“It’s not that,” with a sigh, he stated, quite clearly. “I just hate demons. They irritate and infuriate me beyond my capacity for speech. And I _really_ hadn’t been in a mood to converse in the first place.” He was speaking like they were just discussing the weather. “Since you helped me, I suppose I owe you now. What is it that you want?”

“I...” Akira blinked. “Your...name...? Maybe?”

The angel’s eyes narrowed sharply and, _oh_ , those eyes were deadly. Akira could get lost in them for _millennia_.

“Akechi Goro.” The angel turned away the best he could without brushing his back against anything. “Surely that’s not all.”

“Kurusu Akira. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s not that nice.”

“...”

_Akechi, huh._

“I... Uh, I did the best I could with your injuries. But for your back, I’d have to...smooth it down...” Now wasn’t the time to be getting nervous and now especially wasn’t the time to notice that the angel had quite a lovely profile. A strong, defined jaw and nose—angels were beautiful in general, but this one... No. _Fuck_. Akira had to focus. “I need tools for that. So, um, be patient with me.”

“It’s not like I have much else of a choice,” Akechi replied softly and sullenly.

_Is this really the same angel I found? Did my feral beast of an angel get replaced when I wasn’t looking?_

“Uh...” Rather intelligently, Akira scooted closer. “Do you mind if I...ask who did that to you? You—don’t have to answer.”

“I don’t know who it was specifically,” Akechi said, waving his hand dismissively. “But, as you can no doubt tell, this is punishment.”

“It’s torture.” Akira didn’t waste a second. “Tearing your wings off like this was _unnecessarily_ cruel.”

Akechi seemed to smirk before his face fell.

“A demon with morals,” he said, snorting. “Now I’ve _really_ seen it all.” He leaned his shoulder into the wall. Akira hovered by, uncertain. When Akechi’s eyes shut once more, the spell was broken and Akira was able to distance himself once more.

If Akechi was aware of the effect he had, he didn’t remark on it. But if he did know, Akira had a feeling that it’d be used to the angel’s advantage. Akira had to be careful. Since Akechi wasn’t a mindless beast, that meant...

It meant a lot of things. Akira imagined the other probably had a lot on his mind. Especially with how tense he was around the shoulders. Considering his situation, it was more than understandable. It was admirable, even, that Akechi was keeping his cool like this.

Akechi still had his guard up, which was fine. Akira didn’t expect any different.

“I don’t plan on hurting you,” he announced as if that would serve as a reassurance. Akechi was unmoved, even as Akira stressed, “I don’t plan on eating you, either. I want to help. What happened to you wasn’t right.”

Akechi gave a non-committal hum.

“I’ll do what I can about your injuries,” Akira went on. “Once you’ve recovered enough, you can decide for yourself what to do. I’d, uh, prefer you didn’t kill me afterward though. I’d hate to have to fight back.”

“Demons are wretched, malicious creatures,” Akechi said, rattling off the rhetoric Akira’s heard a thousand other times from countless other angels and humans. “It’s not uncommon for them to toy with their meals. To build them up, tear them down, and _savor_ every last drop.”

The thing is.

Remaining humanity aside, Akira can’t deny how appetizing Akechi looks. And how the thought of Akechi cleaned up and pristine made his mouth water. Even now, Akira stares at the slope of Akechi’s neck, the curvature of his shoulders, his waist, and thick thighs—and his _teeth_ itch to sink in.

It’s in his nature to eat, and Akechi’s a hell of a fucking meal. Angels _always_ tasted best.

With the way Akechi does look at Akira’s mouth, the angel _surely_ knows this.

So, why hadn’t he tried to escape yet?

_Probably,_ Akira’s brain supplied. _Because he not only has nowhere else to go but nothing to live for._

How pitiful.

Wouldn’t it be _merciful_ to put this creature out of its misery?

_Just because it’s in my nature doesn’t mean I can’t make choices._

“I’ll get something for your back,” he said, turning his back on the angel. Giving Akechi ample time to lash out if so desired. “Sorry. It’ll be a moment.”

He leaves, and he takes more than a moment. More than enough time for Akechi to escape if he so pleased.

When he came back, Akechi hadn’t moved at all, but he was staring up at him with two _haunting_ eyes.

Everything was settled without the need for words.

(Even if Akira was seized by quite the unfortunate desire to pull Akechi close and not let go.)

(For a demon, hunger and sexual desire often got conflated. With Akechi, the latter was bound to become more and more of a fucking _problem_.)


End file.
